Nanashi
by ChibiMeikoChan
Summary: An insight into Trowa's past. Kinda Dark, not too much by my standards. Sad.


Hello again from the Abyss!

It's me Shinigami1220 with another ficlet for your reading pleasure!

It's been swimming around lately and I needed to write it down, so here I am!!!

  
  


All characters do not belong to me!!

  
  


Yaoi, cussing (I have the biggest potty mouth around), definitely some angst. This is NOT A HAPPY FIC!!!! It deals with Trowa's past and there will be some not so subtle hints of rape!!!

~*~

"Shit!" the blond cursed loudly. He spit out some blood and glared down at the young boy who lay in his bed. "You little fuck, I should kill you right now," he hissed, wiping off some more blood. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at the brown-haired nine-year old. 

A moment of silence passed and the youth still did not move. His green eyes were impassive and he seemed to be mocking the older man with his serenity. 

The blond man grinned coldly and put his gun away. "No," he spat, "I have a better idea." The brown-eyed mercenary pulled off his hat and placed it on the stand next to the bed. A camouflage shirt followed and then, a pair of pants; next were his boots and socks, then his boxers. He climbed into the small bed next to the already naked child. 

Calloused hands rubbed the young boys already muscled body, and a small whisper broke into the youth's thoughts of being far, far away, anywhere from here. "What's your name, boy? I might as well know before I fuck you into the mattress." A monotone broke into the already squeaking springs. "I have no name. I am called Nanashi." But the blond man was already too busy touching and fondling the young boy. 

Nanashi closed his eyes and tried to remember his child hood, something happy and warm. Instead, there was only the harsh feel of men's hands grabbing him or forcing themselves inside of him. His emerald eyes closed tighter as he felt this new man, this nameless blond in a thousand began pushing himself into the brunette's young body, ripping up his insides when he more than filled the limit of the nine-year-old's thin body. 

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but he swallowed them down and made himself try to forget all the pain, whether physical or emotional. The pain subsided to the back of his mind, not there, but not gone. 

Yet as for as emotions went, he could not but help feel a sense of helplessness and loneliness, not to mention a dark hatred to all these men, men who were supposed to be on his side, but it was apparently not the case. Why would they do this to him then? Then it hit him: no one was helping anyone else; everyone was here for themselves, and no one else. He, the no-name _whore_ was here for their pleasure, and he had no choice, no way out. He was young and helpless.

And, in that one brief moment of understanding, three things happened: The blond man climaxed, Nanashi realized that he was to become a wall, and nothing more, and finally, there was no way out unless he killed all of these men, every single last desperate one. 

The question was, was he willing to do it? These were the men who had helped raise him, if indeed hurt him, but nonetheless, they each showed him something useful. 

A groan behind him told him that the blond was done. No more tonight, well at least from _him_. The rustle of clothes and a few heavy _clicks_ indicated that the older man was going to his tent or to eat; whatever the case he wasn't coming back here. 

And with the absence of the pain he was so accustomed to, Nanashi was able to think, clearly and without distraction. Of course, in reality, he had already done all his thinking, all his planning. That realization brought, however, a deep sadness. He would have to wear a mask, one without emotion (more so than ever before), whether of joy or sadness, in order to survive. Pain would no longer be allowed as an excuse to feel or to show those feelings. He would become a nothing. As simple and as unfeeling or emotional as a Leo mobile suit.

But, he knew, it would be hard, but he also knew he could do it. Still, warm tears pricked at his eyes and instead of fighting them back, as he was accustomed to, Nanashi let them come. He cried for his child hood that was lost, his unknown parents and for what was to come. He cried for himself, and all those who had died in the war. 

Yet, after all his sobbing and weeping, Nanashi knew he wouldn't cry again for a very long time.

~*~

The end! Sad. I think I'll do a little thing like this for all the Pilots...What d'ya think? R&R!! 


End file.
